


better than sliced bread

by ebenroot



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Post-Canon, St. Petersburg, everyone gets a love pillow and yuuri is petty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9356969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenroot/pseuds/ebenroot
Summary: “What,” he breathes, “is that?”Victor – his darling coach and fiancé Victor, love of his life and dream come true Victor – smiles at him and squeezes the dakimakura tight to his chest, while Makkachin chooses to make the large cardboard box his new chew toy.“It’s you!” Victor chirps.--in which we all assumed yuuri is the one to own a dakimakura but maybe that isn't entirely the casetranslated intoChinese





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授權翻譯】better than sliced bread by ebenroot (nic98ole)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469778) by [inoripooh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inoripooh/pseuds/inoripooh)
  * Translation into Русский available: [лучше и быть не может](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10996797) by [neer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neer/pseuds/neer)



> hahahaha okay. no more three day one shot fics for me. time to work on pushing daisies au. hopefully. unless i get distracted. OTL
> 
> dedicated to all artists that created yuuri x victor body pillow art. without you, this fic would have remained a stupid joke that i thought of at approximately three in the morning.

Yuuri drops two days worth of groceries on the hard-wooden floor of their apartment. His body goes rigid in the doorway, mouth frozen open in mild horror. 

“ _What_ ,” he breathes, “is _that_?”

Victor – his darling coach and fiancé Victor, love of his life and dream come true _Victor_ – smiles at him and squeezes the dakimakura tight to his chest, while Makkachin chooses to make the large cardboard box his new chew toy.

“It’s you!” Victor chirps.

It is Yuuri. Or at least, it’s Yuuri drawn in an overly sexy pose with his Eros costume tighter in the crotch than it is in real life. There’s a luminescent blush across the dakimakura Yuuri’s face and his tongue is running across his pouty lower lip. The eyes are lusty – and also Yuuri notes, the wrong shade of brown – and they beckon whoever holds the dakimakura to do whatever naughty little fantasy that pops into their mind.

In other words, absolutely fucking _embarrassing_.

“Why do you – how did you – _where did you even_ – **_why?!_** ” Yuuri can’t even say a proper sentence, can’t even form a cohesive _thought_. It feels like walking in on Victor with another man on his lap, but that man is _Yuuri_ – no, that thing isn’t Yuuri. Why does this feel so _weird?_ It’s just a stupid pillow and yet, Yuuri just feels. . . _weird_.

He grabs the groceries off the floor and kicks the door closed shut with his foot, side-eying the dakimakura as he heads into the kitchen to place the bags on the counter.

“I was searching for some comfortable neck pillows for flying to buy you since you complained about pain during our flight to China last year. And this popped up in my recommendations!”

“Did you even buy the neck pillow?” Because if Victor bought that thing for Yuuri to be funny – which also would be very Victor of him if he did – he’s _not_ going to be happy.

“Of course I did!” Victor exclaims, pulling the box away from Makkachin to reach inside and pull out a small baby blue neck pillow to replace the one Yuuri squeezed all the cotton flat. Yuuri hums, checking the eggs and finding not one of them had cracked during his mental shutdown.

“Well. . .thank you.” It’s pretty hard to focus on the gift Victor is holding in one hand, because now Yuuri has a perfect view of the back of dakimakura Yuuri and the pose of him appearing to be on all fours while he wiggles his ass in the air. The Eros outfit might as well have been painted on him; it looks _far too tight_. And is his butt _that_ big? Yuuri looks over his shoulder and down just to compare, only to turn away with a blush when he hears Victor chuckling warm in his throat.

“They took a lot of artistic license with your image,” Victor muses, adjusting the dakimakura to admire the artwork. Then – Yuuri doesn't know if he does it to be a jackass or if its genuine – Victor buries his face _directly_ into dakimakura Yuuri’s pushed out ass.

Yuuri _screams_.

“ _Stop stop!_ ” Yuuri yelps, turning his eyes away and covering them with his hands at the same time. Victor exhales a laugh, looking over his shoulder at his fiancé refusing to acknowledge that five-time world champion Victor Nikiforov is goofing around with a dakimakura of him. Yuuri is refusing to believe that any of this is even _happening right now_. That thing doesn’t exist in their apartment and when he turns around, Victor will be cuddling with Makkachin and all of this is just some sick mental trick his mind is playing on him.

Yuuri turns around in time to see Victor squeezing dakimakura Yuuri’s butt, complimenting that it almost feels like the real thing.

Yuuri screams even louder.

 

* * *

 

The dakimakura – or as Victor affectionately nicknames it ‘Yuuri 2’ and earns him a spot on the couch for one night – disappears for one week. Yuuri doesn’t know if Victor got rid of it or if he’s hiding it from Yuuri since he knows Yuuri will get rid of it himself. He’s searches under the bed and in his closet and the underwear and sock drawer, basically all the places that he once hid his Victor posters and the relatively small porn from Phichit during his days in Detroit. 

Yet, he can’t find the damn thing.

Yuuri’s paranoia about Yuuri 2 subsides into a dull worry that echoes at the back of his mind, and eventually gets swallowed up by more important things Yuuri needs to concern himself with, like expanding his Russian vocabulary and knowledge of signs so he stops getting lost from leaving the market and finding their apartment, and focusing on the upcoming Grand Prix.

He’s in the process of planning a new SP choreography with Victor, while figuring out the music he’d like for his FS. After all the work, Victor and Yuuri walk around and window shop to fill the apartment with useless junk Yuuri thinks they’ll eventually need down the line. Sometimes on Fridays, Victor and Yuuri have a date night and enjoy dinner together and bottles of wine, knowing damn well they need to be at the rink in the morning but at the same time not giving a shit.

Yuuri eventually forgets that Yuuri 2 even existed. On one Thursday morning as he walks into his new home rink for the season, he’s forced to remember _it does_.

“This thing is fucking creepy,” Yuri critiques, holding Yuuri 2 at arm’s length like it will kill him if it gets too close. Behind him, Mila has an expression on her face that doesn’t clue in _what_ she’s feeling. Amusement? Mild horror? Discomfort? There’s definitely discomfort on Georgi’s face as he stands beside her and also observes Yuuri 2. He’s trying to come up with something _polite_ to say as to not offend Yuuri nor Victor, when there is nothing beautiful that can be said about this sexual image of his new rinkmate plastered on a pillow.

“It’s actually quite a popular item in Japan! You have no idea how hard it is to find one of him in his gala outfit. Those ones are _very_ rare, but I’m still struggling to find as high quality as this one,” Victor muses aloud, pinching the corner of the dakimakura to rub the material in between his thumb and pointer.

“You want to buy _more?_ ” Mila gapes, to which Victor gives one of his half-assed shrugs that never answer the question asked. Yuuri sees Yuri beginning to turn Yuuri 2 over, and he throws down his skating gear.

He screeches with a hand outstretched towards the group of skaters chatting by the rink and everyone jumps from the loud noise echoing. Yuri drops Yuuri 2 on the ground and Victor quickly picks it back up, dusting the little bit of dirt off as Yuuri scrambles over with face beet red and sweating.

“Good morning, sleepy head~” Victor purrs, waving Yuuri 2 in front of his face. “Any later and I would have resorted to just helping Yuuri 2 perfect his Eros program!” Victor says in that playful joking tone of his. There’s a million questions running through the scrambled mess that is Yuuri’s mind. Where did you hide this thing all this time? What _possessed_ you to think about bringing it _here?_ Why are you entertaining the thought of even buying _more???_

But now, all he realizes is that Victor is unintentionally holding Yuuri 2 with its backside facing Mila, Yuri and Georgi.

Georgi quietly mutters that he’s going to get on the ice and walks past Yuuri with a red face and eyes not daring to even _look_ in the Japanese skater’s direction.

Yuri is giving Yuuri a look of disapproval and disgust, like this is all somehow _his_ fault. The corners of Mila’s lips finally quirk up in a smile as braces a hand on her hip and whistles low.

“Wow, you got to tell me how to get a butt like that, Yuuri,” she compliments with a wink of her eye. Victor nods his head in appreciation, giving Yuuri 2’s behind a little pat and laughs. Yuuri buries his face into his hands and groans aloud, sound muffled by the palms of his hands.

“Victor, _why?_ ” he asks and Victor gives a confused sounding hum.

“Why what?”

“Why _here?_ ” Yuuri exclaims, cheeks and skin growing hot. He can feel the burn of humilated tears at the corners of his eyes but he keeps his hands tight over his face. It’s just a stupid pillow, he _shouldn’t_ be getting so worked up about this. Yet, the embarrassment crawls up his spine and makes his body curl inwards like a wilting flower.

“Yeah, we already have the real fatso, we don’t need some creepy perverted – _oi!_ ” Yuri’s rant gets cut off mid-sentence and Yuuri feels the soft touch of Victor’s hands moving over to hold his head.

“Yuuri,” Victor speaks, and his voice drips with that soft concern and that worried tinge that he done something wrong. His tone is so careful and so gentle to Yuuri’s ears, soothing away the aching sickness of embarrassment with each rub of his thumb against the back of Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri moves his hands away from his face, properly clasping his hands with Victor to meet his eyes. “Please, just. . .I don’t know why you want that thing but _please_ don’t do this again,” Yuuri breathes. He’s see a flicker of regret that swirls in Victor’s eyes that lasts for less than a second, and he squeezes Yuuri’s hands nice and tight. He brings Yuuri’s hands to his lips, gently kissing the engagement band that’s nice and pretty around his finger.

“Of course. . .I’m sorry,” Victor mouths against his finger. He pulls Yuuri forward into his arms, kissing Yuuri on his forehead and then down to the tip of his nose before two soft pecks to the lips.

“Ugh, can you two not be gross this early in the morning _again?_ ” Yuri snaps. He throws the love pillow that was thrown at him at Victor, who quickly catches it before it falls to the ground once again. “And put that fucking thing away! It’s creeping me out seeing Katsuki looking like _that!_ ” Yuri yells, angrily storming past the couple to get on the ice and warm up through the power of being irritated with Victor’s perverseness.

Mila giggles to herself, clapping a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. She smiles at him, reassuring and ‘it’ll all be okay, we won’t look at you any differently because of this’, before she too takes to the ice.

Yuuri sighs and looks at Victor, then at the dakimakura Victor is squeezing against his chest like a pitiful child holding onto their dearest toy for life. He huffs and goes to sit down and start lacing up his skates.

“. . .Does this pillow make you unhappy, Yuuri?” Victor asks as Yuuri gets his left skate on.

Yuuri looks up at him, startled. “Huh?” he asks and Victor gestures to Yuuri 2 in his hands.

“Does Yuuri 2 make you unhappy?” Victor asks again. He’s quiet and pensive, looking at Yuuri with those eyes wanting to dissect and pierce right through to Yuuri’s true feelings hidden underneath all the aversion of eyes and mumbling of his words.

“I. . .if it makes you happy, then it’s fine,” Yuuri says, fingers fumbling with the laces of his skates.

“Here, let me,” Victor pipes up, and suddenly Yuuri 2 is shoved into his arms. Yuuri almost falls backwards from the cushion pushing into his face, awkwardly turning it around so Yuuri 2’s more decent side faces outwards. Victor is on his knees in front of Yuuri, taking off his other shoe to slide on his right skate.

Victor is quiet in tying up Yuuri’s laces, smiling to himself about something while Yuuri hugs Yuuri 2 against him. When he places his face against the fabric, he can smell a little bit of his cologne mingling in the cotton. Warmth fills his stomach at the thought of Victor spritzing Yuuri 2 with some of his cologne so he can smell like the real thing, not sure whether to feel confused or concern or touched. Maybe a mixture of all three.

“I won’t take Yuuri 2 out in public anymore,” Victor says as he tightens the knot on Yuuri’s right skate. “I’ll get rid of it if you want-”

“N-No, you don’t have to do all of that,” Yuuri sputters, holding Yuuri 2 close and looking over the printed image. Really, he should look at this with a positive angle. Victor could have picked an image that is _way_ more humiliating to parade around with, ones that have Yuuri naked or wearing little to nothing and exposing parts of his body that only Victor has the privilege of seeing.

This. . .this isn’t so bad. It can be worse.

Victor braces hands onto Yuuri’s knees, rubbing his thumb against Yuuri’s leg in slow circles.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri squeezes Yuuri 2 as if to further prove the point that he’s fine with the stupid pillow. Victor’s eyes get big with glee and his smile shapes into a heart as he squeezes Yuuri’s left knee.

“Okay!” Victor chirps, and Yuuri smiles as Victor shoots up to give Yuuri another quick peck to his lips. Victor hums against Yuuri’s mouth, pulling back to brush his nose against Yuuri’s and his smile grows soft. He glances down at Yuuri 2 in Yuuri’s hold and he clicks his tongue.

“It’s comfy, yeah?”

“Huh?” Yuuri looks down at the dakimakura and, _ugh_ it may not be as risqué as dakimakura he’s familiar with but that still doesn’t mean it’s not embarrassing for Yuuri to look at an image of him all flushed with heat and lust. He looks back at Victor, digging his fingers into the plush material of the cushion.

“I guess,” Yuuri mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. Victor nods his head, rubbing his chin.

“It’s very good material,” Victor praises. “Nice and soft and good to cuddle with. Course, Yuuri 2 doesn’t make the cute little giggle you make whenever my hands squeeze right-” Victor squeezes Yuuri’s waist and presses his thumbs just beneath Yuuri’s ribcage.

Yuuri _squeals_ , narrowly kicking Victor in the stomach as his leg kicks out on reflex. He lurches backwards to escape from Victor’s tickling and nearly falls off the bench again, trying to use Yuuri 2 as a shield as Victor looms over him with a playful grin.

The smile disappears off Victor’s face when a booming voice yells out “Vitya! Why aren’t you and Katsuki on the ice yet?!”

Both heads spin around to see Yakov marching over to them with his usual annoyed scowl and lips open to berate Victor more than Yuuri for goofing off, when his eyes go to the dakimakura in Yuuri’s hands. He stops in his tracks, and just _stares_.

Yakov’s face is even more exaggerated and filled with horror than Yuri’s was, and Yuuri isn’t sure if he should be offended or embarrassed. After a minute’s pause of silence, Yakov pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales this _sigh_. Yuuri’s familiar with that sigh; Yakov usually does it every time Victor suggests something stupid and unreasonable (which is a lot).

The elder man turns on his heel, grumbles about forgetting his headache medication, and trudges back out of the skating rink without even giving them another look.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri 2 disappears again for another week after the ice rink incident. Once again, Yuuri has no idea where Victor hid it and has searched through all their laundry and underneath the bed and the closet where they keep their cleaning supplies. Still _nothing_. For all Yuuri knows, Victor could be hoarding a small army of Yuuri dakimakuras and he doesn’t have a clue where they’re hiding. 

“ _Aw come on, you had a Victor body pillow in Detroit. What’s the harm in him owning one of you?_ ” Phichit chirps to Yuuri over FaceTime one night. Victor is in the living room watching television from the sounds of it, and Yuuri just came out of the shower and is getting dressed in something comfortable to lounge in.

Lately, he hasn’t even been wearing his old pajamas from Japan or even some new sleepwear Victor bought him in Russia. Victor’s old shirts and sweats are more than perfect for Yuuri, especially if they still hold his fiancé’s scent despite being buried deep in the closet underneath all their clothes.

Yuuri plops down on the bed, the laptop bouncing upwards from the movement, and he braces his chin in his hands.

“Well, that was different.”

“ _How?_ ”

“For _one thing_ , it stayed in the dorm room. I didn’t show it off to our friends. Second, I got rid of it when I moved back to Japan instead of clinging onto it like a security blanket. Third, I didn’t think that I’d actually get the _real thing_ , so why did he get one _after_ we got engaged?” Yuuri exclaims, mildly frustrated.

“ _Isn’t this like when he bought all those posters of you? Cause he’s your biggest fan?_ ” Phichit points out.

Yuuri huffs. “Well. . .yeah. . .but. . .” Yuuri sighs and drops his face down into the comforter. “It’s still just as embarrassing. Maybe even more. The posters are professional images of me. This _isn’t_.”

“ _Well, it’s not like he’s. . .you know. . .having sex with it or talking to it instead of you, right?_ ” Phichit asks.

Yuuri flushes red, pinching a still damp lock of hair between his fingers at the thought. Well, no. Last night on the kitchen floor showed that Victor still very much prefers the real thing than some pillow copy.

“. . .I guess not. . .he just cuddles with it on the couch whenever it randomly pops back up. Sometimes he carries it around the house with him like it’s his child,” Yuuri says.

“ _That’s it? That’s not weird. You cuddled with your Victor body pillow **all** the time, right?_”

Yuuri groans aloud. “But it’s _different_ ,” Yuuri stresses, but now that he thinks about it, it’s really not. Phichit thinks the same, since he’s quirking an eyebrow at Yuuri and imploring the Japanese skater that it will be easier to just say what’s _really_ bugging him about the dakimakura.

. . .He’s not actually getting _jealous_ over a stupid cushion, is he?

“Yuuuuurrriiiiii~” Victor’s voice whines from down the hall and Yuuri’s head perks at the sound. “Are you done yet?”

“I’m coming!” Yuuri shouts, hearing Phichit give a snort.

“ _That’s what Chris said_ ,” Phichit jokes, and Yuuri rolls his eyes. Phichit laughs at his own joke again, wiping away a nonexistent tear and sighs. “ _This will probably blow over. Just don’t let it get to you. It’s just a piece of furniture with your face on it._ ”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to feel awkward about knowing someone wants a sexy picture of you printed on a pillow.”

“ _You’re right, I feel more offended than anything. I’m not hot enough for people to want to cuddle with body pillow me?_ ” Phichit says with a little pout that draws a chuckle out of Yuuri. He hears Victor call for him again and Yuuri quickly says his goodbyes before he hangs up and heads into the living room.

It doesn’t surprise him to see Yuuri 2 in Victor’s grasp, his cheek rested up against Yuuri 2’s chest. Yuuri clicks his tongue, realizing a second later the taste that’s suddenly filling his mouth is annoyance. Victor looks up from hearing the noise, a soft smile coming over his lips as his eyes go up and down Yuuri’s figure.

“Did I tell you how much I love it when you wear my clothes?” Victor asks and Yuuri feels the bitterness leave his tongue with his smile.

“Maybe four or five dozen times,” Yuuri answers with a shrug. Victor gives a chuckle that warms Yuuri’s chest from the inside and rises to burn in his cheeks.

“Let’s make it five dozen and one,” Victor says, exhaling a sigh as he drinks in the sight of his fiancé. Yuuri laughs and scratches his head. He looks down at Yuuri 2 still tightly cradled in Victor’s grasp and bites the inside of his cheek. Yuuri reaches down and gently pulls the dakimakura out of Victor’s arms, then not so gently chucks Yuuri 2 off to the side and out of his line of sight.

Yuuri crawls into Victor’s arms before his fiancé has time to question Yuuri’s sudden switch in behavior, twining their legs together and pulling Victor’s arm over his waist. It’s some sort of reality show, all in Russian of course. Yuuri’s not that well versed in his listening skills, so most of what the guy on the show is currently screaming completely flies over his head.

Eventually, Yuuri feels Victor’s lips in his hair and his cheek nuzzling against his head, and he tunes out the noise of the television and just focuses on the warmth of Victor’s body against him.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri drops the subject of dakimakuras and has taken the approach of just ignoring it, which is something he should have done in the first place but was in too much denial to even acknowledge it. Yuuri 2 usually gets a spot on the couch for Victor to cuddle against when he’s lounging with the laptop and reviewing practice videos. 

As long as Victor doesn’t bring the thing inside the bedroom, Yuuri thinks he’ll tolerate having the dakimakura inside their apartment. The agitation that nestles in the back of his spine whenever he’s sitting on the couch with his legs sprawled over Victor’s lap as he tries to focus on their Wednesday late night movie instead of Victor squeezing Yuuri 2 against his chest doesn’t lessen, but he figures that he’ll _eventually_ get over it. Probably.

They get back onto a track that is as close to normal as they can get, and the Russian figure skaters don’t bring up the topic either during their practices. Yuri sometimes makes a jab about Yuuri 2 to be a little shit and get Yuuri all a fluster again, but it’s usually only when Victor and Yuuri go into one of their flirty moods. The times where their arms snake around each other and their whispered sweet nothings are more like obnoxiously loud ‘you’re cute, no _you’re_ cute’ statements.

While Yuuri scrolls through Instagram on Saturday morning and one of his days off, he pauses when he sees a picture Mila has posted.

It’s in Mila’s apartment and in Mila’s bed, but the Russian skater has a dakimakura of Sara Crispino against her and is playfully winking at the camera.

The caption reads ‘ **for when u miss bae @sara-crispino** ’.

Yuuri _gapes_.

It has over five thousand likes and Sara has already commented with ‘lol miss u too tell me where I can get one of u’, kiss and heart emojis capping the end. The next three comments afterwards are from Michele, and the length of all three comments expanded can rival a senior’s dissertation on how this body pillow is _not_ okay and who is the pervert that created such a lewd image of his darling sister so he can kick their ass.

It’s not a bad image, just of Sara wearing loose fitting pink pajamas surrounded by the folds of the blanket. Though, Yuuri doesn’t have a clue on what’s on the backside.

And of course, when Yuuri clicks on Victor’s Instagram handle after seeing it pop up amongst the many that likes the photo, he’s met with the new image of Makkachin sleeping on top of Yuuri 2 while Victor captions it ‘ **makka misses his papa :(** ‘. Yuuri thinks this might have been a day where Yuuri was out buying groceries and getting lost in Russia, since Makkachin is currently warming his feet and nuzzling into his calves.

“Makkachin, do you know where it is?” Yuuri questions the poodle and Makkachin turns his head upwards to look at Yuuri. “I promise I don’t want to get rid of it. I just want to look at it.” And also throw it in the garbage.

Makkachin – seeming to pick up on Yuuri’s true intentions underneath the gentle voice – goes back to nuzzling his head into Yuuri’s calves innocently. Yuuri gives a frustrated huff, but relaxes into the cushions of the couch and likes the photo strictly because Makkachin looks cute at least.

 

* * *

 

“I’m greatly disappointed in the lack of dakimakuras of you in your gala outfit,” Victor tells Yuuri while Yuuri brews coffee in the kitchen. Yuuri doesn’t respond, just seethes at Yuuri 2 resting comfortably on Victor’s lap while his fiancé browses the Internet. 

“Maybe someone hasn’t gotten around to making one,” Yuuri answers eventually as he reaches for the hazelnut creamer and dumps it in Victor’s coffee, before proceeding to add just the amount of sugar Victor likes.

“There’s an abundance of you in your short program outfit and your free skate program outfit. Also in some outfits that I’ve never seen you in before. Though, I can’t say I feel comfortable looking at your expression in some of these. The ones where your eyes are on the verge of tears,” Victor says with a distasteful tone. Yuuri relaxes his shoulders, stirring in his own cream and sugar for his coffee.

“Some people are into that sort of thing. Like the whole ‘please be gentle with me’ thing, I guess? At least, that’s what I think they’re trying to get across. Probably not. It’s weird. And awkward. Let’s stop talking about this and figure out what we’re going to eat for lunch later,” Yuuri says in his ham-fisted attempt at changing the subject.

“Have you ever owned one of these, Yuuri?” Victor asks. Yuuri’s grip on their coffees almost slips, but he’s able to quickly recover and only spills a little out of his mug onto the counter.

“No,” Yuuri lies, wiping up the coffee spill with a paper towel before he takes the coffees more firmly in his hands and carefully walks over to the couch to sit down.

Victor smiles at Yuuri like he’s the greatest being on the planet as Yuuri sets his coffee on the small table cluttered with junk mail. Yuuri slowly sits down beside Victor and tries to kick Yuuri 2 off Victor’s lap with his feet in the most inconspicuous way possible. Victor politely moves Yuuri 2 to the vacant side of the couch and places his laptop down beside it. Fingers wrap around Yuuri’s ankles, massaging around the joint.

“Really? Wow~” Victor fawns in amazement. Yuuri quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Why is that a surprise?”

“Well I found a cardboard standee of me when I was helping unpack your room, so I would have figured-” Yuuri starts choking on his coffee and Victor squeezes his ankle. “You okay?”

“Y-You found – I – I can explain –”

Victor beams. “Why? I think it’s cute that my fiancé is my number one fan. I only wish that I can find one of you so we can have matching standees and we can get cardboard married.”

Yuuri snorts behind the rim of his mug. “ _Cardboard married?_ What does that even _mean?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Victor muses, playing with Yuuri’s pinky toe. “If we’re going to get married in real life, then our cardboard selves should be happy together too.”

“Does my cardboard self _also_ have to win five world championships?” Yuuri asks. Victor’s lips quirk into a grin, now moving to pinch Yuuri’s big toe.

“Four now,” Victor reminds and Yuuri hums. Victor presses his thumbs into the arch of Yuuri’s foot, massaging and kneading out any kinks and knots down his heel and back up. “Would you want a dakimakura of me?” Victor asks suddenly. Yuuri begins to choke again on his coffee.

Once it’s properly down and Victor nags at him to sit up properly, Yuuri stammers out, “N-No, I don’t – I’m fine with just you.”

“You don’t want to cuddle with a dakimakura version of me?” Victor’s pouting, _actually pouting_. Yuuri averts his eyes and busies himself with his coffee, refusing to answer. He feels a sudden weight on his legs and he glances up to find that Victor has the laptop resting on his calves, the Internet page open to _lots_ of dakimakura Victors.

“Come on~ there’s got to be one that you’ll like. Let’s see, there’s one of me as a professor right here, though I can’t imagine why. I actually look pretty good in glasses. Maybe I should stop forgetting about my eye appointments and see about getting a pair. We’ll be the glasses couple,” Victor gushes with a laugh as he clicks on a dakimakura of him lying on a wooden desk with a ruler tight in his grip like he’s going to spank the person holding him.

“Oh my god, _no_ ,” Yuuri groans aloud.

“Ooh, there’s one of me in the Eros costume. Maybe this one so we’re matching? Although I was fifteen at the time, so I’m not so sure how I feel about this. Also, my hair wasn’t that long-”

“ _Please stop_ ,” Yuuri whines, confused that Victor doesn’t seem to be the _least bit_ embarrassed that someone drew an image of him in such a lewd pose and different themes, and upset because now that he thinks about it, he _does_ want that professor Victor dakimakura. It sounds pretty hot.

“Hmm, there’s one of me that’s just naked. . .I’m flattered they think I’m that well-endowed. Would you want this one, my love?” Victor says with a dirty little waggle of his eyebrows, slyness dripping on his tongue.

Yuuri kicks Victor in the ribs in response, and Victor just laughs.

 

* * *

 

Sara makes her Twitter profile picture her cuddling with a Mila dakimakura. 

Emil also changes his Twitter picture to him holding a Michele dakimakura.

Michele just leaves an angry Tweet demanding for his friend to change it and to stop patronizing these people that are still making Sara dakimakuras after he left them a very strongly worded complaint.

Minami proudly uploads a picture of his most treasured dakimakura Yuuri that is still in the plastic. Yuuri is too distracted by the amount of posters of him covering Minami’s bedroom walls to really pay any attention to the fact that Minami owns a dakimakura of Yuuri in that horrible Lohengrin costume from the ‘dark days’.

Christophe uploads a picture on Instagram of his boyfriend and his cats in a sea of dakimakuras of Christophe. Some of them range from having red roses covering up the naughty bits, to some having Christophe’s ‘jizzing on the ice’ expression and eagerly begging for the holder to join in and watch.

Christophe’s cats don’t seem to care about them and have already made a bed out of the dakimakura Christophe posing nude on the ice. Christophe’s boyfriend, on the other hand, just looks absolutely confused.

Phichit uploads selfies with different dakimakuras of him to Instagram, while Celestino awkwardly tries to hold them all in the background. Also for some reason, he takes a selfie with a Seung-Gil dakimakura. Seung-Gil has yet to respond to it, so Yuuri believes he either doesn’t care or he doesn’t want to acknowledge that such an item exists.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Yuuri mumbles to himself as he scrolls through his Instagram feed and sees that Leo and Guang Hong jumped on the dakimakura bandwagon with their matching selfies with the others dakimakura. Yuuri thanks the lord above that theirs are the most innocent ones he’s seen so far, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if he sees an image of the younger skaters that he will never be able to unsee.

Yakov is nagging Victor about his jump composition for his short program, so Yuuri is taking a minor break. Some of the Russian skaters are huddled in the corner talking amongst themselves. Yuuri has no idea what about, but he knows he hears the word ‘pillow’ pop up constantly, so he can only assume it’s dakimakura based.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Yuri snaps at him as he glides by on the ice, glaring hard at him. “As if it wasn’t annoying getting tagged all the time by those rabid fangirls, now I’m getting tagged in pictures of them holding those gross pillows of me!”

Ah, Yuuri does remember seeing **#YuriAngelsBedTimeCuddles** trending on Twitter.

Yuri clicks his tongue. “The least they could do is give me money for it! It’s _my face_ ,” Yuri complains and leans up against the boards. “I swear, this whole entire thing better disappear before my first event at the Grand Prix. I do _not_ want one of those things flung at me while I’m taking my bows.”

Yuuri gives a sorry hum, still scrolling through his Instagram feed. Victor has uploaded another picture of Yuuri 2 propped against the wall, the caption complaining that ‘ **Yuuri 2 needs a Victor 2 so he’s not lonely while I’m gone :(** ‘. Some of Victor’s fans have already left Victor links in their comments. Yuuri now understands why Yuri sometimes chucks his phone up to the rafters.

“Hey, do you think they make one of those pillows with JJ on it?” Yuri suddenly asks. Yuuri glances up at him, confused. Yuri’s face is still twisted in annoyance, but he doesn’t look like he’s embarrassed for asking about a Jean-Jacques Leroy dakimakura. 

“Huh?” Yuuri says, because he needs to double check anyways.

“A pillow of JJ. I bet if they don’t, he’ll make one of himself, that egotistical fuck.”

“I. . .probably? I don’t know what website they’ll sell them on, though.”

Yuri grunts. Without another word, he skates away like the conversation never happened.

Yuuri blinks as Phichit uploads another selfie, confused out of his mind.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Yuri uploads a picture to Instagram of him kickboxing a JJ dakimakura hanging on a rope. 

The caption reads ‘ **I replaced my punching bag** ’.

JJ comments ‘wow rude’, then ‘lololol I bet I can design a better-looking pillow #itsJJStyle #newprojectidea’ and the lightbulb emoji.

 

* * *

 

“ _Yuuri, you and Seung-Gil are the only ones that haven’t uploaded their love pillow picture! Even **Otabek** uploaded a picture of him with a love pillow and he barely uses Instagram!_” Phichit complains over the phone. Yuuri sputters, kicking Yuuri 2 out of his spot on the couch when Victor has his head turned to the microwave popping popcorn for their movie night. 

“Okay, first off that shouldn’t count because it was just Otabek and Yuri dragging one of JJ’s official dakimakuras through the streets with his motorcycle when he visited last week.  And secondly, it’s because I don’t _want to_. Phichit, I thought you said this would have ended in one week. It’s been _three months_.”

Phichit laughs. “ _Ooops?_ ”

Yuuri frowns, looking at Yuuri 2 on the ground. He wonders how fast can Yuuri grab the stupid cushion, run to their bedroom and chuck it out the window to be hit by an oncoming truck without Victor noticing. Maybe once Yuuri 2 dies, everything else will go back to normal.

“ _Come on, Yuuri~ It’s fun! Everyone is having a good time before we become rivals on the ice again. Oh my god, if we manage to get assigned to the same event, we **have** to take a group picture. I’m going to send out a mass text once the announcements are posted.”_

“Am I the only one that thinks this entire situation is _ridiculous?_ ”

“ _No, Seung-Gil is silent about it too. But I doubt he’ll be able to ignore it for long. I sent him a little present~_ ”

Yuuri groans exaggeratedly loud into the mouthpiece of the phone. Behind him, he hears the microwave beep. “Popcorn’s done, which means I’m going to have to have this debate with you later, Phichit," Yuuri says as the smell of buttered popcorn floats into his nose.

“ _When are you going to watch ‘The King and the Skater 2’?_ ” Phichit complains and Yuuri chuckles.

“It’s hard to find a cheap export of it.”

“ _Dude, you **know** I’d loan you two my extra copy! I’ll box it up right now so it’ll get over to you as soon as possible so I can watch it with you two over FaceTime!_”

Yuuri gives a nervous laugh, watching as Victor rounds the couch and places the popcorn on the coffee table. Victor reaches down to pick Yuuri 2 off the ground and dusts it off, flopping onto the couch to resume cuddling it as he flips the television to the Blu-Ray player.

“Um, well. . .not that we _wouldn’t_ want to watch it with you, but. . .movie night is kinda. . .our thing?”

Phichit is silent for a moment. Then, he whispers with the most scandalized voice, “ _When did you become the ‘Netflix and chill’ kind of guy, Yuuri?_ ”

Yuuri opens his mouth to snap or stammer denials, but the opening credits are beginning to roll and Victor’s hands are trying to pull him onto his lap.

“Goodbye, Phichit,” Yuuri says and hang up the second he hears Phichit laugh out ‘bye~’. He tosses his phone onto the coffee table and grabs the popcorn, not so innocently nudging Yuuri 2 off the couch again as he nestles into the warmth of Victor’s embrace and feeds him the first handful of popcorn.

 

* * *

 

Seung-Gil uploads an Instagram picture of his dog sleeping on a dakimakura of him wearing an even gaudier colored version of his short program costume. He captions it **‘@phichit+chu, I was going to throw this thing out, but since my dog has taken a liking to it, I won’t. Don’t send me anymore.** ’ 

Phichit comments with the hundred emoji and ‘im going to send her a buttload of pillows’.

Yuuri pities Seung-Gil for about a minute, before he eventually gives in and laughs.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later when he steps into the apartment and finds a sea of Victor dakimakuras neatly arranged in the living room, he realizes that karma is a bitch. 

“Victor!” Yuuri _screams_ , tripping over a stupid dakimakura of Victor in “Stammi Vicino” themed underwear and throwing down his skating bag.

“Ah! Yuuri! Thank goodness you’re here!” Yuuri certainly hears Victor’s voice, but he doesn’t see Victor anywhere in the room other than the dakimakuras. How much did this even _cost?_ Oh god, there’s so _many_. Where would they even put them all? How is this _happening??_

“Victor, where are you?!” Yuuri yells, pushing a chef Victor dakimakura off the counter, then flipping it back over when the backside reveals a picture of naked apron Victor.

“I’ve been turned into a love pillow! Only love’s true kiss can break the spell! But I can’t tell you which one I am, so you’ll have to kiss them all!”

The pillow deviant is probably hiding somewhere watching Yuuri right now in position to take a picture.

“Did Phichit set you up to do this?!” Yuuri calls out, checking behind the couch. He instead finds a Victor dakimakura of him as the Winter Soldier which, okay, is actually pretty fucking cool and Yuuri might keep this one.

“. . .No?” Victor’s confused and faked innocent voice answers. Yuuri sighs, tucking Winter Soldier Victor under his arm.

“Victor, wherever you are, come out right now,” Yuuri calls out. A minute later, he sees the closet door down the hall open and Makkachin bolts out with Victor walking down after him. Yuuri drops to his knees to hug Makkachin when the poodle jumps up to greet him, then stands to his feet to give a disapproving frown to Victor.

Victor points at the cushion in Yuuri’s arms. “I actually want that one,” he says and Yuuri scoffs.

“Well why did you order all these other ones?!”

“For you to pick one that you like! Any stragglers I’ll just give to Yakov. He’s been saying that his back is hurting from his mattress so these will be comfy for him to sleep on,” Victor says with a lazy handwave.

Yuuri blinks. “It’s like you _want_ Yakov to die from high blood pressure.”

Victor ‘pffts’, gesturing a hand out to the dozens of dakimakuras on the couch. Yuuri didn’t realize it at first, but Yuuri 2 is mixed into the bunch and surrounded with Victor’s sultry and sexy image.

“Yuuri 2 is dating them all,” Victor explains with a laugh and gives Yuuri a wink.

Had Yuuri been sixteen-year-old Yuuri Katsuki, he’d say ‘fuck yes, this is my wet dream to have twelve boyfriends that were just different variants of Victor Nikiforov’. As twenty-four-year-old Yuuri Katsuki, he narrows his eyes and says, “We’re returning them right now.”

“ _Yuuuuuuurrrrriiiii~_ ” Victor whines, clearly offended that Yuuri doesn’t want a pillow aside from Winter Soldier Victor. Yuuri shakes his head, carefully laying the one dakimakura he’ll consider saving as he begins to search through and collect the pillows into his arms.

When Yuuri has the cheerleader Victor Nikiforov, yandere Victor Nikiforov, and Victor Nikiforov covered in some white substance that Yuuri _really_ doesn’t want to think too hard about pillows in his hold, he pauses. It isn’t Yuuri 2, but he sees his face underneath all the pillows.

Yuuri drops the cushions he has in his grasp onto the ground, pulling out the dakimakura with his face on it to find that it’s not just him, but also Victor. Both are wearing their gala costumes, Yuuri’s hand grazing Victor’s cheek and Victor’s arms around Yuuri’s waist to hold him close. Both of their eyes are focused on whoever is holding the pillow instead of each other, but Yuuri still tingles at the sight of the art.

It’s certainly better than all the crap he’s been seeing lately on Instagram and half of the dakimakuras that are in the room.

“I like this one too,” Victor says smoothly as his arms slide around Yuuri’s waist and his cheek nuzzles into the side of Yuuri’s head. “Turn it over.”

“Are we naked on the other side?” Yuuri asks dryly.

Victor kisses his ear. “Flip it over and see for yourself,” he breathes hot and heavy against Yuuri’s skin and Yuuri twitches, mildly aroused. He hesitates for a few seconds, before he sucks in a breath and turns the pillow around in his grasp and-

Oh.

They’re not naked.

Instead, dakimakura Yuuri is dressed in a beautiful white tuxedo with a flower crown veil, while dakimakura Victor is dressed in a stunning black suit and tie. Their eyes aren’t focused on the holder of the pillow, they’re only focused on each other, and they look _so in love_. It looks like they’re dancing on air, and the glint of their wedding rings is drawn exaggeratedly bright.

“. . .We’re married,” Yuuri breathes. Holy shit. This is going to be him soon. This will be _them_.

“Yeah. Pillow married,” Victor muses and chuckles.

They spend a few minutes just staring at the image. Or rather, Yuuri stares at it while Victor sucks a wet spot against his neck and slips his hand up Yuuri’s shirt. Yuuri tenses and buries his face into the pillow, startling Victor. “Yuuri? Love, what is it?”

“. . .I want to keep this one too,” Yuuri says into the soft cotton. “But we get rid of the others right now. Yuuri 2 as well, because I actually can’t stand that thing.”

Victor laughs, leaning with Yuuri as he pulls the pillow away and sets it down next to Winter Soldier Victor.

“Okay, okay,” Victor says and goes back to affectionately kissing his fiancé’s hair. “But are you _sure_ you don’t want to keep another one? You know, since the Winter Soldier one is mine.”

“It’s mine and no,” Yuuri states. Victor kisses down to his clavicle and Yuuri’s toes squirm against the hardwood floor.

“How about now?”

“Still no.”

Victor’s hand slips underneath Yuuri’s shirt, trailing up slowly. His other hand kneads Yuuri’s hip, while his lips purse to blow gently in Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri whimpers from the sensation, knees beginning to quiver ever so slightly.

“Now?” Victor murmurs, returning to the spot on Yuuri’s neck he was licking and sucking beforehand. He kisses Yuuri’s skin once, before he resumes teasing it with his tongue.

Yuuri gasps, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth.

“If we’re g-going to do this, let’s not do it in front of Makkachin,” Yuuri tries to get out, biting back the moan threatening to slip past his lips. Victor hums, looking over at Makkachin who is currently minding his own business and gnawing on one of the boxes that the pillows came in.

“Okay. To the bedroom we go,” Victor says, and lifts Yuuri off the floor by his waist. Yuuri flails in Victor’s hold from shock, but begins to laugh as Victor quickly hurries them to the bedroom and tosses him onto the bed with a bounce.

Two hours later, Yuuri emerges from the bedroom to find half of the dakimakuras have been ripped to shreds with cotton fluff spread all over the living room floor and Makkachin rolling around in the mess with the most pleased of faces.

Victor takes a picture of Makkachin’s panting face to upload to Instagram as a way of dog shaming.

Yuuri gives Makkachin five extra biscuits after dinner when Victor isn't looking.

 

* * *

 

The survivors of the ‘Makkachin Dakimakura Massacre’ that Yuuri doesn’t want are given to Yuri, with the request that Yuuri doesn't care how he does it but he just wants these things to _disappear_. Later on in the same day, Mila uploads a Snapchat of her, Yuri, and what appears to be Yakov sitting around a fire roasting marshmallows captioned ‘ **they’re getting out past aggressions :’)** ’. 

If Yuuri squints enough, he can see Victor’s winking face going up in flames. He doesn’t let Victor know about it.

Yuuri lounges against the pillows of their bed, scrolling through Instagram while he waits for Victor and Makkachin to come home from their turn to go shopping for groceries. He sees his own little selfie of him and Winter Soldier Victor has ten-thousand likes and Mila comments that there’s a variant of her that’s Black Widow. Yuuri also sees that Victor has uploaded a picture of Yuuri cuddling their couple dakimakura with the wedding side faced outwards.

It’s captioned ‘ **hes been cuddling with it for the last four hours lolol #concerned** ’.

Christophe comments ‘maybe u should stop goofing around with this ‘five gold medal’ bullshit and marry him already so he’ll cuddle u instead :))))’.

Phichit comments ‘^^^^THIS’.

Yuuri likes them both.

He hears the front door’s lock coming off from down the hall. Shortly afterwards, he hears Makkachin’s greeting bark.

“I’m in the bedroom!” Yuuri shouts before Victor can call his name. Makkchin comes sprinting and does a flying leap for Yuuri on the bed. Yuuri laughs as the poodle lands on the bed and starts licking all over his face. He drops his phone to the side, rubbing his hands up and down Makkachin’s sides and over his belly.

“I missed you too, boy,” Yuuri coos at the dog. Makkachin flops over onto Yuuri’s legs to give Yuuri better access to his stomach to rub. He chuckles and obliges, scratching up and down and behind Makkachin’s ears.

Victor steps into the bedroom, already shedding his coat to drop onto the floor and will pick up whenever he feels like it.

“I have provided food for our household, my dearest fiancé,” Victor announces and Yuuri opens his arms. Victor smiles, crawling onto the mattress and into Yuuri’s arms. He rests his head on Yuuri’s chest and Yuuri breathes in Victor’s shampoo, threading his fingers through his locks.

“Thank you, fiancé,” Yuuri says with a smile. “Did you get the cookies?”

“Yep.”

“And the toothpaste?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Makkachin stretches out over their legs, panting and getting comfortable.

They lay in silence, Yuuri’s thumb rubbing to push back Victor’s fringe and letting his eyes fall closed. Victor’s hand slides up his thigh to squeeze his hip. “You know, there’s something else that’s nice about cuddling with you. That’s better than Yuuri 2,” Victor mumbles against Yuuri’s chest.

“What?” Yuuri asks against Victor’s hair.

“Listening to your heartbeat,” Victor answers, nuzzling in Yuuri’s chest. “It’s one of my favorite sounds.”

“What are your other favorite sounds?” Yuuri asks.

“Your laugh. . .your voice. . .that noise you make when I stick my cold hands up your shirt-”

Yuuri snorts and pinches Victor’s ear. Victor chuckles, tilting his head up so he can meet Yuuri’s warm eyes with his own gentle blues. “Let’s put the groceries away so we can watch a movie,” Victor says and Yuuri nods his head.

They take a couple more minutes before either of them move away from each other’s grasp, and Yuuri allows Victor to drag him to the kitchen with hands tightly interlocked.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (The day that it’s Victor’s turn to do laundry, he finds a professor Victor dakimakura wedged behind the washer where he used to hide Yuuri 2. He doesn’t let Yuuri know he found it; he just smiles.)
> 
> say hi on [tumblr](http://ebenroot.tumblr.com)


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